Balanced on the Blades Edge #2 Deathmaker (12 page)

“He was part of a secret mission,” Stone Heart said, “to spy on the mines where the Iskandians are extracting the crystals that power their dragon fliers.”

A number of heads lifted at that announcement, including Tolemek’s.
Mines?
He had yet to see one of the energy sources up close, but he had assumed they were man-made, rather than being some natural resource.

“Guess who the Cofah airship smacked into while he was there?” Stone Heart asked.

“Who?”

“Colonel Zirkander,” the soldier said, speaking for the first time. “Nobody expected him there. Turns out he was commanding the mining outpost.”

Goroth gave Tolemek another look. Odd how often the man’s name was coming up this week. Had Tolemek been remiss in not questioning Ahn more seriously? Was it possible she knew something about this?

“He didn’t have his squadron or his fliers there though,” the soldier went on, “and we had a mercenary shaman aboard, so we all figured we had the advantage. But he pulled a rusty old flier out of some forgotten crevice, and then...” The man licked his lips, and his voice lowered to a whisper. “There was a witch working with him. Or maybe even a sorcerer, like the ones from the old days. I heard the shaman talking to the captain. He seemed confident he could deal with her, until the end. They fought down in the fortress, and it was crazy. All flying sparks and lightning and blasts of power and I don’t know what. You see, she had this sword. A glowing sword.”

“A
soulblade
?” Tolemek asked before he could think better of showing his interest. He couldn’t help himself. So much of his research had pointed to Iskandia as one of strongholds of the ancient sorcerers, but he had assumed that there would be little left but buried ruins. He hadn’t dreamed there might be soulblades floating around the continent.

The soldier’s brow crinkled at the term. “I don’t know what it’s called, but when she was holding it, it glowed and kept bullets from hitting her and, and, and she cleaved our shaman down like he was nothing. I saw it with my own eyes.”

“Fantastic,” one of the older captains said, his tone drier than a mouthful of sand. “Zirkander didn’t have enough of an advantage. Now he’s got a witch in his back pocket.”

The corporal nodded fiercely. “
That’s
why we failed. If it had been just him...” He smacked a fist into his palm.

“
Why
was it just him?” Goroth asked. “Why would he have been sent to a mountain mine without his squadron?”

“Must be a secret location,” one of the captains said. “And only the top, most trusted people get sent there.”

“But why a pilot to command a fortress? A pilot without his squadron, at that. Surely they have other lickspittles they trust.”

“Something to do with the energy sources?” Tolemek suggested. “Maybe his experience with them makes him a good candidate for locating them or interacting with them or whatever is done at this mine.”

“Huh.” Goroth scratched his jaw and looked at him. “If only we knew someone who might know more about Zirkander and this whole incident.”

Tolemek shut his mouth and stared back. The last thing he wanted to mention in a room full of captains was that they had a Wolf Squadron pilot. His reputation might protect her on the ship, but there were people here who would risk much to do exactly what he and Goroth planned: using her to trap Zirkander. Then there were the more shortsighted people, those who would simply kill her for revenge. If his memory served, there were even bounty posters around the outpost offering rewards for the heads of particularly vexing Iskandian pilots. Ahn might not have been flying long enough to have one, but he couldn’t be certain, not with that aim of hers.

Tolemek pointed at the soldier. “Would you be able to lead an airship back to those mines?”

“Yes, good question,” Scarred Brea, one of the two female captains in the outfit, said. “It sounds like the Cofah ship didn’t survive to report home, but their government would pay a fortune to know where the source of the energy crystals is.” Brea tapped her fingers together as she gazed at the soldier. Maybe thinking of making sure he didn’t change his mind and report home before some entrepreneurial pirate could sell his information first? “I’ll offer you a spot on my ship.”

“Wait, wait,” another captain said. “I’ve got a spot open too. Fighter sergeant. Comes with a two percent booty share.”

“Why don’t you idiots see what his answer is first?” Goroth grumbled.

The corporal wore a hopeful expression, but it wilted at this pragmatism. “I
might
be able to find it. But I wasn’t looking over the railing much when we were flying out there. And on the way back, I stowed away on one of their supply ships, and I was hiding in the cargo hold for the whole trip. I don’t think you can get there on foot at all. It’s real high up in the mountains, and it’s winter there now. Whole place is buried under snow. Also...” He shrugged. “Someone in my government already knows about the mines, too, and was pretty sure on the location. That’s why they sent us. I do remember us flying around for some weeks before we found them though.”

“He talks a lot, doesn’t he?” Captain Brea said. “To basically say no, he can’t find the place.”

“Rethinking your offer?” someone asked.

Tolemek ignored the rest of the meeting, his thoughts turned inward. If Zirkander knew someone who had a soulblade, Ahn became even more valuable to him. Goroth might want to kill Zirkander, but Tolemek wanted to question him first. Or even snoop around in his home, see what information he might have on the sorcerers of old. Sorcerers who were supposed to be long dead, not fighting alongside the Iskandian military again. Even more, he wanted to question the woman with the sword. Maybe she would know where another one was. But sorcerers could read minds, so being in the room with one would be dangerous. Maybe he could get her sword somehow when she was elsewhere. Was it truly bonded to her, as the soulblades had been in ancient times? Or would it accept another handler?

He had far more questions than answers, and all he knew was he needed to find Zirkander more than ever. And he needed to talk to Ahn.

Chapter 7

M
uch to her chagrin, Cas hadn’t been able to simply sneak off the ship. Judging by the few people below decks and the quietness of the overall craft, much of the crew had left to enjoy the outpost’s facilities, but there had been too many pirates and cabin boys wandering up above for her to make it from the ship’s ladder to the gangplank. For a moment, she had fantasized about a mad sprint where she shot wildly, knocking down anyone who thought to stand in her way, but that wasn’t some mecca of freedom down there. If she charged off the ship, guns roaring, she’d probably be shot before she reached the end of the gangplank. Maybe sooner if Tolemek or his captain had told the other pirates in the outpost about her.

So, backup plan. She’d gone down instead of up.

From the shadows near the door, Cas eyed the engine room. There were a few portholes, but whatever fog or clouds lingered outside kept much light from seeping inside. She didn’t see anyone, but there were shadows everywhere, and the engine, furnace, boilers, and bins of coal took up a lot of space. Some diligent pirate or cabin boy might be working in a nook not visible from the door. She didn’t know what they would be doing though. The flywheels and pistons of the engine stood dormant, the fire in the furnace allowed to burn low. Since a lighter-than-air gas mixture kept the balloon full and the ship in the sky, the boilers only had to be heated when the propellers were needed. With the craft docked, she shouldn’t have to worry about that for a while.

Cas thumbed the vial of goo as she listened for signs of life in the room. The glass was warm from being held in her hand. At some point, she needed to find some decent clothing, something with pockets perhaps.

“Later,” she murmured and walked over to the engine, considering places where a little sabotage would go a long way. A fire should draw the crew down here—fires on wooden ships were never a good thing, so all hands ought to report promptly to help. That would be the time to escape.

She thought about sabotaging the boiler—she wasn’t an expert on engines but mused that she might be able to create a delayed explosion that would irrevocably damage the whole ship.

“They would really hate me then.” She was a long ways from safe, and, though she hated to admit it, there was always the possibility that she would be recaptured. Better not to do something that would anger them to the extent that she became a shoot-on-sight foe instead of a capture-for-later-use one.

She paused next to a coal bin. If all she wanted was a fire...

Yes, that might do. But as long as she had the goo, she might as well do a small bit of sabotage. Something that would delay them if she managed to escape in some other ship, so that they couldn’t come after her right away. She brushed some of Tolemek’s concoction onto the metal bar of one of the pistons. In the shadows, she couldn’t see the smoke rising, but she smelled the acrid stuff working.

She grabbed one of the lanterns by the door and set a fire in one of the metal bins. Before leaving the room, she opened a couple of portholes to let in fresh oxygen to fuel her flames. And it might prove useful to her escape attempts if some ominous black smoke poured out through the portholes as well. At the least, it should alert the men on deck to the problem sooner rather than later.

As soon as she was certain her blaze would burn without further help from her, Cas returned to the corridor. She had the problem of where to hide while people from the deck above ran down to the engine room. Tolemek’s cabin would have been a logical place if she hadn’t left a guard inside and melted the lock. She settled for the shadows behind the narrow metal steps leading above decks, hoping the pirates would be too busy racing to put out the fire to look closely at the spot beneath their feet.

She had barely slid into the tight space when the door banged open overhead. Heavy boots thumped on the metal steps, the heels scant inches from her nose.

“Hurry, hurry.”

“Get water.”

“Here, hold the door. Get a hose through here. Hurry!”

Cas pushed her back against the bulkhead, trying to blend in with it, as the boots raced toward the engine room. The pirates ran down the corridor without looking back, their eyes riveted to the door at the end. When one threw it open, an impressive amount of smoke flowed out, wreathing the closest men in gray plumes.

Two ran in, and one ran right out again, racing for the steps. Cas held her breath. With the man running this way and facing her, her hiding place didn’t seem that clever.

He raced up without glancing through the steps and soon reappeared with other men and with a hose. It was busier in the corridor than Cas had anticipated, with people running in and out of the room, some operating the hose and others fetching buckets of sand. She had to wait longer than she would have wished for the way out to be empty. When she got her moment, however brief, she left her hiding place and charged up the steps.

She ran out, hoping everyone would be below decks now—or at least extremely distracted—but she ran into a man striding toward the hatchway as soon as she sprinted out.

His eyes were shadowed by a giant-brimmed hat, but there was no mistaking his hand reaching for one of the pistols at his belt. Cas had her purloined pistols ready. She shot the weapon out of his hand before he had lifted it more than two inches from his holster, and sent a second shot
through
his hand. She could have sent it through his chest, but, again, she was concerned with doing too much damage—leaving too many bodies behind—when her escape might be unsuccessful. And, later, if she thought about it more, she might accept that she didn’t particularly want to do so much that Tolemek would be furious with her. As it was, he would probably get in trouble for not restraining her in such a manner that she couldn’t escape.

The pirate howled and grabbed his hand. Cas ran around him, checking the rest of the deck as she did so. Uh oh, there was one more trying to take a shot at her. She fired, lancing him through the knee. He dropped his weapon and crumpled to the deck, clutching the injury and howling as he rolled around. He was out of it for the moment, but the first man was glaring at her as much as he was gasping in pain. And those shots might have been heard by those below.

She jerked the pistol toward the hatchway. “Drop your sword and get down there. Help your friends put out the fire.”

“I’m not—”

“
Now
,” Cas snarled, pointing the pistol at his face.

He pulled out the sword with his good hand and dropped it, then backed toward the steps she had just left.

“In,” Cas ordered.

He turned and jogged onto the steps, though he didn’t start down right away. It didn’t matter. Cas slammed the door shut behind him. She grabbed the sword and rammed it through the wheel that opened and closed the door, hoping that would jam it shut, at least for a time.

After once more scouring the deck with her eyes, checking for pirates and spotting none, Cas sprinted for the gangplank. She intended to charge down and to quickly disappear into the large floating outpost, but she nearly tripped over her own feet as something unexpected came into sight. She flailed to catch her balance, though a surge of vertigo hit her when she found herself leaning over the side of the gangplank, the brilliant blue of the ocean visible through the fog. Thousands of feet below. That was one fall that she did
not
want to make.

She lurched back to a vertical position and waited until she had crossed the gangplank and her feet were on solid... pavement, if not ground, then stared to the right again. She was lower now, and buildings blocked much of her view, but she could still make out the bronze hull of a dragon flier parked on a landing pad at the end of the outpost.

“Forget the yacht,” she whispered. “We’re seeing if that thing flies.”

Muffled gunshots came from the ship behind her. Someone trying to shoot his way through that hatch? She wasn’t going to stick around to find out. She sprinted across a street that probably went all the way around the outpost and between two buildings with wood and corrugated metal sides. The floating platform itself might be a miracle of engineering, but the construction that had sprung up on it made it look like a shanty town, at least the part she was in now. She passed sturdier structures as she wove deeper into the maze, trying to parallel that main street and make her way to the flier, but she started passing more people too.